


Steve Rogers and the Sleeping Beauty

by laireshi



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Civil War II, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Hydra Cap, Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Not A Fix-It, True Love's Kiss, holy shit what's happened to Tony?, yes kinda both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: It's the New Year's Eve and Steve kisses Tony awake.If only it were that simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts), [Mushroom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushroom/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Steve Rogers and the Sleeping Beauty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914870) by [Celeste_030](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celeste_030/pseuds/Celeste_030)



> Sabre, Mushroom, I'm blaming you both and [that imzy thread](https://www.imzy.com/bringing_food_to_lab_stony/post/how_do_steve_tony_share_their_new_year_s_midnight_).
> 
> Canonically, Tony's in a coma now, Steve's brainwashed into being evil, let's have fun with that, right? Do read the tags, please.
> 
> A fill for the "with the power of HEART" square on my stevetony bingo card.
> 
> There's a Chinese translation available [here](http://www.mtslash.org/thread-220622-1-1.html) or [here](http://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404062374339459515). Thanks to [celestewuu](http://celestewuu.tumblr.com/)!

Steve had thought he'd be triumphant, when the time came.

Stark would've been the worst, most difficult enemy—the only person with any chances of defeating Steve, really. That he was now out of the picture was great. That _Steve_ himself made it this way—he should be rejoicing.

Instead, all he could feel was a dull ache, something like hollowness engulfing him. 

Stark—no, _Tony_ —was gone, and it _wasn't supposed to be this way_.

Steve looked at the high-tech pod in which Tony's body was. They didn't actually knew what happened to him—what Tony had done to himself. For all intents and purposes, Tony was dead, and Steve had led him all the way here, pulling Tony by his hand, using his trust.

He'd revelled in it, and now . . . 

Now he was looking at Tony's coffin, and all he wanted was to smash it to pieces, turn back time and make the world right again.

Maybe Steve was right—Tony had been his most dangerous opponent, and he'd won, not even knowing there was a fight to be fought.

"Steve?" Carol's voice surprised him. He barely contained a shudder.

"I just need a moment," he called back. He was surprised at how rough his own voice sounded. 

Maybe he came about it wrong. Maybe he should've convinced Tony to his side—but he knew Tony, he knew Tony would never see things Steve's way. He'd have fought him to the death, if he knew.

But he hadn't known, and still, even if he wasn't dead, he wasn't quite alive, either.

Steve choked back a sob. He reached towards the pod. Stupid sentimentality, but it was almost like the armour, and he—he wanted to touch that part of Tony one last time.

It was smooth to the touch, not quite cold, but not warm either. It thrummed under his fingers with energy.

Pointless, Steve scolded himself.

Just as he was about to take his hand back, the pod opened.

Steve felt his heart racing wildly. Was Tony—was he back? The rush of hope was heady. Steve stared at the device expectantly.

But Tony didn't emerge. Didn't get up. Didn't even open his eyes.

He just laid there, in the open pod, like—

Like Steve's touch opened it. Like so many of his fail-safes were programmed to active for Steve's voiceprint. 

_Oh, Tony_.

Steve knew what he should do: try and close it back, and that failing, call someone, pretend he didn't know what was going on. Walk away and forget about Tony Stark.

So he gently picked Tony up, raising him until he was fully out of the pod and safe in Steve's arms.

The device closed then, now that it was empty.

Steve wondered if anyone would notice Tony wasn't there, anymore. It wasn't important, right now. Getting out fast and unnoticed was. 

But Steve knew the safe routes, the ones not covered by cameras, and so he pressed Tony's unconscious body against himself, and followed them, left the Triskellion as fast as he could.

He hadn't planned it, but now it was painfully clear in his mind: he couldn't trust anyone else with keeping Tony safe.

***

Steve had Selvig examine Tony's body. It was risky, but he had to be sure Tony didn't need another of these pod-like things to keep him from harm while he remained unconscious.

"Remarkable," Selvig had said, though. "It's like he put himself in a state of suspended animation—he can survive centuries like that."

So now there was a soft, luxury bed in the corner of Steve's hideout, and Tony laid there, hopefully comfortable, definitely comatose.

On some days, it made Steve feel lighter, just to look at him, see him nearby. He could imagine Tony _actually_ being with him then, when he knew this particular dream would never come true—or at least not by Tony's own free decision.

On some days, it only made him annoyed, hurting that Tony was _right there_ but _wasn't_ and wouldn't ever be.

Steve missed him, and he hated it.

***

Steve excused himself from the superheroes (but not Avengers, not anymore) New Year party early. He knew the whispers— _Tony Stark would do the fireworks, usually—_ and they were more than a bit true. But Tony didn't have to put on a show for Steve; it'd be enough if he were there.

So Steve went to the place where Tony _was_ , if not in mind then in body. But it was New Year's Eve. Miracles happened, right?

No.

Like Selvig said, Tony never changed. He still had his perfectly trimmed goatee—taking care of all his masks, up until the end. But the terrible bruising on his face was gone, and the scars were slowly disappearing, as if his body was healing.

He didn't move, never so much as stirred. 

Steve sighed. Maybe—when the world was his, and he could order all the brightest minds to work on the mystery of Tony Stark, maybe then he'd get him back. 

And when the world was already Steve's, maybe Tony would see Steve was right.

(As if.)

Steve stripped of his uniform. It might be time to call Red Skull, keep him from suspecting Steve with regular reports. Steve went through the gestures automatically; he opened the dye and painted the hydra symbol on his chest. He'd done it plenty of times before. 

Somewhere, he could hear the clock striking twelve, and was hit by the absurd thought, _what if Red Skull is celebrating_. 

Steve looked back at Tony, so calm in his near-death. 

It was New Year, wasn't it?

Steve didn't let himself think. Not as he crossed the room to the bed, slowly, as if he was waiting to come back to his senses. Not when he climbed on the bed next to Tony. Not when he touched Tony's cheek, smooth, warm—alive.

The illusion was broken by the fact that Tony didn't _breathe_ now. 

But Steve still wasn't thinking, so he just leant down, and kissed Tony softly on the lips, like he'd always wanted to.

It hit him then, what it was he was doing, and he sat up in shock, moved to get away—and froze.

Tony was looking at him, his eyes wide and so very blue. "Steve?" he asked. "How. . ."

So maybe _that_ was how far Tony's trust in Steve went, how far his fail-safes would let Steve in—but Steve couldn't voice it, couldn't give any easy excuse.

He was still shirtless, and Tony was still staring at him, confusion turning into horror.

 _Get a grip, Rogers_.

Tony darted away, slow, clumsy, obviously not quite back yet. Steve grabbed him by his arm and threw back down on bed, applied pressure to his throat.

It helped that Tony was face down and Steve didn't have to watch his expression.

He let him go when Tony went limp, checked his vitals—still breathing, good; Steve had only wanted to knock him out.

 _So New Year's wishes do come true_ , Steve mused, and his mind settled on the next problem.

Time to build a cell to hold Tony Stark.


End file.
